


The Way Home

by Roughnight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Armontentia, Auror, Christmas Party, M/M, Pining Harry, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-30 20:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8548135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roughnight/pseuds/Roughnight
Summary: .Harry was fully conscious of the reassuring weight inside his pocket as he walked in on the room where the Aurors Christmas Party was being held. It was time. Where he lacked the Gryffindor courage, he had his Slytherin's cunning. He was going to get himself his reward. He was going to have Draco Malfoy, even for just a night. All he needed was the Armontentia he secretly and desperately held. .





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nofavrell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nofavrell/gifts).



> .
> 
> Prompt from Nofavrell:
> 
> Harry Potter is desperately pinning for Draco Malfoy. He considered the Auror Christmas Party as his one and only chance in taking what his lust addled mind consider his reward. He wanted Malfoy. He was going to have his reward. Harry makes an Armontentia Potion and planned to use it on Malfoy.  
> Oh, he was late for the Party as well but it didn't matter because it was also his birthright, in a way.
> 
> AN: This fic is unbeta'd. I always get into a block nowadays but Nofavrell's prompt was pretty much a lifeline for my weekend. All errors are on me. o/
> 
> .

 

_/" You try to run away, run away from the world,_

_But then you run away, run away from yourself,_

_And you don't know, the way home."_

__Amor Fati, Epik High_

 

_~*~*~*~_

 

All eyes swivelled at him as soon as he crossed the wooden double doors, leading him to the ballroom where the Aurors Christmas Party was being held, the sound of his leather boots making a distracting sound against the marbled floor. Witches and wizards all dressed immaculately in their most stylish and luxurious garments, most of them holding goblets of wines, looked him up with wonder and disapproval in their eyes. He was distinctly aware how the loud chatters have somehow lowered to a hush, the guests' curiosity getting the best of them to glance at the person who had the gall to attend the event extremely late, with the party almost at its end. He worried about their opinions not. _Not this time_ , he told himself. Not when for the first time since the war, he had finally found something to meticulously scheme and prepare for. He _wanted_ desperately unlike how he wanted before. This will all go according to plan. He was aware when the curious glances of the guests shifted from disapproving to finally appraising him. He tried not to blush or fidget and feigned confidence. While he wasn't used to it, he wanted people to notice him especially this night. He wanted a certain someone to finally notice him. He wanted _\--no,_ he needed to command attention. He knew he had taken the Ministry personnel by surprise. He had discarded his usual Muggle jumpers and shirts in favour of an expensively tailored Westwood suit, the black cloth hugging his body tightly under the open silken robes, the silver chains of his waistcoat flashing under the magically invoked candles of the hall. He closed his fists at his side. It was all according to plan, he reminded himself, his quiet sigh belying the confidence he wanted them to see--he wanted _him_ to see. At the periphery of his vision, he can spot Hermione determinedly and furtively making her way towards his direction. He ignored her, flicking his green eyes instead somewhere ahead of him, his glance landing on a certain blonde gentleman who was annoyingly surrounded by gushing witches and wizards alike. Draco Malfoy was never without anyone surrounding him and admiring his person. It irked Harry. But Draco Malfoy was also looking back at him, and for a brief second, Harry found himself lost and his plans on the verge of collapsing.

 

 " _Harry James Potter_ ," Hermione hissed as soon as she got to his side, her normally pleasant face looking crossed, "you better have a good reason for coming late! You knew Ron and I--"

 

"Hermione," Harry whispered, lacing his voice with warmth. He tipped his head and forced himself to break from the staring contest he'd accidentally started with Malfoy to bring his attention to his friend, "I know, and I'm sorry."

 

Harry wished Hermione didn't notice the light sweat that trickled at the side of his face. It was far from it though, for Hermione was blushing, her lips parting slightly. She was staring at Harry as if she was seeing Harry for the first time. "Oh,"

 

"I haven't forgotten about your plan to announce your wedding to everyone tonight," Harry offered gently.

 

"That's good," Hermione answered, after clearing her throat, her hand still clutching the smooth fabric of Harry's robes from when she'd first reached him. "You... you just look different," Hermione offered shyly.

 

Harry gave a light chuckle, "I'm just wearing proper clothes tonight," he grinned. "Didn't you say that was only the decent thing to do?"

 

Hermione took a shaky inhale at the word decent, and suddenly noticing that she has was still holding onto Harry's arm, let go, muttering a silent excuse. "You look beautiful today, Harry."

 

Harry could've then choked on his own;  _gods_ , he hasn't event had a drink yet; but he was feeling embarrassed at Hermione's blatant oggling. He instead gave Hermione a warm hug in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment. "Thanks," he answered. "There's no helping my hair though,"

 

Hermione just gigggled then and now boldly entwined her arm with his. "Let's go see your best friend, before he gets more plastered than he already is. I don't want my wedding announcement to be remembered for some other mishaps you lot are prone of conceiving."

 

Feeling lighter than when he first came to the room, Harry followed Hermione's lead, towards the familiar faces of his friends and colleagues. He could see Ron looking at them from afar while having a hearty chatter with some Gryffindors. He had already forgotten to take notice of how people were still looking him up, in his determination to refrain from taking another greedy glance at a certain handsome silver eyed wizard. 

 

Harry was sure he'd giveaway his game if he meets the Syltherin's eyes again. Auror Draco Malfoy was one of the best Aurors the Ministry currently employs after all and Harry Potter wasn't ready yet. 

 

He wondered if he ever will be, guilty as he was.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The rest of the night quickly passed by and his magnificent optimism from when he first arrived had dwindled vastly. He was losing his chance. He never would make it. He was a failure, even with shiny new boots, Westwood and all. He was also very bloody inebriated. The tips of his fingers were feeling numb, his head feeling a little bit submerged underwater. His flesh underneath his suit felt impossibly warm. He cursed himself, not for the first time. He had wanted a lot of liquid courage to get the proper motivation needed to execute his little evil plan but failed. It was a testament of how much of said artificial courage he needed to execute what he'd planned for months. 

 

He had this perfect scheme. He even stupidly expended an illogical amount of galleons for a fucking suit-- _never mind if mentioned suit looked good enough to ea_ t _on its own judging by the way even Malfoy's groupies paid him attention_ \-- just because he knew it was the kind a certain someone would appreciate. To top it all, he had the assuring weigh in his pocket and all he needed was to employ its usage but he can't even summon the nerve to execute it. _And he really should use it_. He only wanted a night. One desperate chance. A month's worth of preparation blown to smithereens because he didn't have the balls.

 

He snorted audibly.

 

" _Fucking Gryffindor courage, my sexy ass_ ," he groaned to no one.

 

There was an amused snigger at his side. "Your sexy ass, Potter?"

 

Harry felt as if he was hit by a speeding lorry. He would recognise that voice in any universe he was. He whipped to his side so quickly, the sudden movement causing him a bout of dizziness.

 

"Easy, Auror Potter," Malfoy said, his voice coated with open mirth, his hands quick to support the front and back of Harry's torso.

 

 _Quick_. Malfoy was always quick with his reflexes. _And his hands_ , Harry's drunken dirty mind supplied, _Malfoy has quick, self assured hands_. Harry frowned, and wondered if it was possible for hands to be self assured. He was distinctly reminded of the many times they've been sent on Auror missions together and remembered being at the receiving end of how the Syltherin's reflexes were of use in saving their lives. Harry wished they were utilised for something else, something more personal and private preferably.

 

"Still with me, Potter?," Malfoy asked after a beat, his warm breath tickling the raven curls on Harry's ears.

 

Harry, who was silently bent over, who have been staring at Malfoy's shiny shoes and who was distracted with his own thoughts was finally brought back from his momentary musings. His mind was in a chaotic state, his nerve endings firing frenetically. He fervently wished Malfoy didn't notice his fucking heartbeats. Harry's skin burned beneath the Westwood, were Draco Malfoy's hands touched him. Malfoy literally had Harry's hearts on his hands. The Gryffindor gulped and straightened, allowing himself the gift of finally having the chance to look Draco Malfoy in the eye.

 

There were fireworks inside his head.

 

It wasn't the first time he'd been this close to Malfoy, but it was the first time he got the quiet and the seconds it needed for him to notice the light freckles on the Slytherin's nose bridge. Harry wanted to lick them and taste the pale porcelain flesh. He instead let a moan escape from his lips and averted his eyes. Draco Malfoy was still staring at him, his luscious lips quirked in a non suppressed grin.

 

His mouth felt very dry and it had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol he already consumed. Harry gave a forced cough and broke from Malfoy's hold, opting instead to lean back against the stone pillar by his side because he didn't trust his legs to support his weight.

 

"Thanks," Harry said with what he hoped was a calm voice. "I'm drunk," he blabbered, as an excuse. "Very drunk."

 

Malfoy hummed. Harry felt a rush of heat creeping upwards from his neck to his face. The blonde Auror was still staring down at him. Harry felt as if he didn't have enough room to breathe. The Slytherin was tall enough to tower him in the way Harry liked and imagined.

 

"You're not,"

 

"Not what?" Harry prompted when Draco seemed disinclined to continue. The Slytherin seemed happy to just regard him silently. Harry desperately hoped.

 

"You're not drunk enough, Potter." Draco stated matter-of-factly. He pointedly looked at the empty bottle of Firewhiskey in Harry's hand. The Slytherin tipped his head sideways, his blonde hair covering one side of his face.

 

Feeling emboldened and being aware how their night was coming to an end, Harry sniped, "What do you care, Malfoy!? Not your business unless you're offering me a drink?" Harry bit his lower lip hard, berating himself internally for unintentionally antagonising Malfoy when the other Auror was finally so close. He was frustrated. He was botching up his own plans. He couldn't even work his tongue properly.

 

"I might be," Malfoy drawled, half dared, his silver eyes gazing at Harry's lower lip, like a vampire drawn to blood like a homing beacon. The Gryffindor was still nervously biting his lower lip. "Do you want me to, Potter?"

 

It commanded Harry to finally lift his gaze and look the Slytherin in the eyes steadily. It took his breath away. He feared he misheard it, about the Slytherin offering to get him drinks. It almost felt as he was being asked out. He searched the other man's eyes for clarity but Draco Malfoy was just looking at him steadily, his sculptured face carefully devoid of expressions, and Harry could not help but think how Malfoy's indifferent mask both scared and aroused him so much it hurt. Everything hurts for Harry nowadays where Malfoy was concerned. Standing in front of Harry, with less than an arm's reach, was everything he'd ever wanted after the war. Harry took a gulp of air, wanting to meet Malfoy heads on and finally give a truthful answer--

 

"There you are, Auror Malfoy," an authoritative voice interrupted loudly. Then came the presence of fucking Minister Shacklebolt, draped in his deep blue robes.

 

"Fuck!" Harry groaned before he can help it. _Because, seriously?_

 

Kingslsey Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "Auror Potter? You have anything you want to tell me?"

 

"Ahh," Malfoy answered instead, his voice dripping with profound amusement, "Auror Potter's sexy Gryffindor ass is apparently drunk," The Slytherin git was clearly finding entertainment in the situation.

 

"Not drunk enough, I reckon," Harry countered petulantly, ignoring the Minister of Magic.

 

And then Draco Malfoy was laughing a soft, genuine laugh and Harry thought it was enough to pull him back from the edges of drunkenness. The Slytherin was his own brand of intoxication.

 

"I apologise, gentlemen," Minsiter Shacklebolt started, "but I need Auror Malfoy's presence with me for a little while." Turning to Draco, Shacklebolt explained, "It's about the Cursed Figurine Case you handled a week ago. Ms. Christofi, the witch you saved from the incident, is a  Wizengamot member's daughter and the officials are here to properly express their gratitude."

 

Political appearances. Of course. Harry crinkled his nose in distaste. They will of course be beneficial for any career anyone may want in the Ministry.

 

"I understand," Malfoy answered to Kingsley, "I shall meet with them."

 

Minister Shacklebolt gave his expressed approval to Malfoy and acknowledged Harry again before leaving.

 

Draco Malfoy turned to him and caught his eyes. He gave the Gryffindor a slight nod as a way of parting, "Potter," and left as if they hadn't been discussing anything of importance.

 

Harry was left bereft, and confused as he stared at the blonde Auror's retreating back. _Abandoned_ , his alcohol addled mind added.

 

Harry was alone again and was accepting the fact that the night would end without him getting what he so desperately wanted. He let out a shaky exhale of defeat and let go of the empty bottle of Firewhiskey. He caught the bottle with a wandless magic before it hit the floor. There was no use breaking another apart from his heart. He allowed himself a pitiful whine. It was all just a ruse--a product of his overactive imagination. God, he must really be so pissed.

 

And desperate. 

 

But he already knew and accepted it a long time ago.

 

~*~*~

 

He was carrying his whole world in the left pocket of his trousers, the tangible Gryffindor guilt bottled in a vial. He had been aware of the assuring weight inside his pocket the whole time. It was the manifestation of his desperation.

 

He knew he was being irrational and stupid and childish... But he saved the whole of the Wizarding and Muggle world when he defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort and what he got in return was a measly recognition and unwanted and misplaced attention and idolisation of the population. It wasn't even of importance when he could get all the attention in the world but the one person he acknowledged he wanted for himself. No, he didn't deserve what he got after the War. Everyone was moving on and marrying and forming families and alliances and he was all alone and unsatisfied and pining. The last straw of his rationality snapped around the time Ron and Hermione shared their news of wanting to announce their wedding date at the Auror Party. Harry realised it was his temper and black mood taking over his sanity when he concocted the evil plan a month ago but he rather thought that he wanted a proper reward. Something he chose. Something he needed. Something not dictated by the masses because it was what they've been expecting of him. The Auror Christmas Party was supposed to be the opportune time that he took his reward for himself, the proverbial time that he took one  Draco Malfoy. Because Draco Malfoy being his own reward was only fitting. Harry can't even remember when crush and admiration turned into deep obsession and want and love. And Harry Potter was madly in love.

 

He had the night meticulously planned. He didn't even mind being the sod who didn't attend the Party on time--not when it was practically his birthright to come on whatever time he wanted. Considering that, he wondered if he should consider a certain beautiful Slytherin his birthright as well.

 

Harry took another swig of Firewhiskey from the new bottle. He didn't deign to get a proper goblet and drink like a proper gentleman. Hermione and Ron had just announced their wedding date to everyone and were celebrating the remaining hours of the Party. Draco Malfoy did not return to him.

 

Harry refused to look for him afterwards and desperately avoided the Slytherin's silver eyes when he could. 

 

Finally, he decided to leave the ballroom. It was all over. He couldn't do it.

 

Harry emptied his bottle in one swig, savouring the burning on his throat, before he fished out the vial full of mother-of-pearl-sheen-liquid from his pocket.

 

_The Armontentia._

 

The most powerful love potion in existence. The one potion that causes powerful infatuation and obsession from the drinker. Harry prepared the potion secretly for a month and had wanted to sneak it onto Draco Malfoy's drink tonight. He wanted the Slytherin to know just how much Harry Potter felt for him. It could be wrong on so many levels, but it can also be right. After all, it was the only chance Harry had in having Malfoy. Hermione might think it was pathetic of him but Hermione had no way of knowing how much Harry had wanted. When he couldn't tap the Gryffindor courage in him, Harry made use of his own Slytherin potential... and this was the closest he got.

 

It could be the inebriation. Harry held the vial of Armontentia carelessly now in the open when he had not allowed himself to even think about the love potion inside his pocket the whole time. Such was his guilt and fear of being found out. He feared that one look will it take from a certain blonde Auror to find out what he so cleverly devised. No one would have expected it of him but Draco Malfoy was also a very skilled Legilimens and Harry couldn't take that chance.

 

Then Malfoy had to have a conversation with him, unguided by Potions and Harry thought how he had enjoyed it. It nicked the last will power he had in spiking Malfoy's drinks. Harry realized he wanted Malfoy as such, uninfluenced by the Armontentia or any other love potion there was.

 

He clutched at the vial of Armontentia tightly. He had to throw it away now.

 

"Harry?"  

 

A shadow loomed over him. He squinted and looked up to see Dean Thomas looking down at him. Harry found himself sitting on the pavement by the gardens, the noise from the Party a distinct murmur somewhere behind him. The sky was a starless river of black, with only the silver moon gracing its vastness.

 

"Dean," he greeted with an easy smile. It was always pleasant to see Dean and Harry found comfort in that. In turn, he always made sure that the other man would feel welcome to join him.

 

Dean casually plopped down beside Harry, their shoulders bumping. He allowed for peaceful silence to pass them by before he decided to break it. "Care to tell me what's on your mind, Harry?"

 

Dean's voice was gentle and warm. Harry glanced sideways at his friend and wondered why he didn't want Dean Thomas instead of Malfoy. Things would have been much easier. But then, he berated himself, asking that question would have been the same as asking why he couldn't have wanted Ginny Wealey instead. His fondness for Malfoy was reckless, irrational and primal in a manner of speaking. It didn't come close to anything Harry has ever felt before. Godric knows Harry had pondered about his powerful attraction to Malfoy and even tried to deny it before he'd accepted it with finality. Dean was handsome and a solid presence Harry could always rely on. Yet he and Harry together didn't also work.

 

Harry shook his head and smiled sadly. "Just the usual, Dean."

 

Dean gave a hearty laugh and expressed how he didn't believe Harry even for a second. "You came to the Party seemingly ready for a War of your own, looking new, delicious and lovely and you tell me now that nothing's going on? Not when hours later you look like a wilted flower about to be blown by the night's wind?" Dean cleared his throat, "Mind you, still a pretty wilted flower at that,"

 

And then Harry felt so light that he couldn't help but smile from ear to ear even as he looked at Dean, his green eyes dancing merrily. "Oh Dean, I forget how refreshing your penchant for artistry and poetry is,"

 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Forget me you ought not, Harry. And there's hardly poetry in what I said."

 

Harry couldn't stop the spread of grin on his lips.

 

"So..."

 

"So?"

 

"So you don't really want to tell me? Or is it something you can't?" Dean sighed. "I just worry about you, Harry. That hasn't changed."

 

Harry felt the shift in atmosphere. He couldn't stop looking. He wasn't that drunk. He could still appreciate Dean's handsome face and lean figure. He understood what it has Dean was offering for Harry to take. And Harry could take it so easily, without remorse. Wasn't he lonely, anyway and was bound to go home as a failure? Had he not decided to finally dispose of the bottle of Armontentia clutched in his hand and finally give up on Malfoy?

 

"So, a flower, am I?" Harry whispered, feeling lightheaded, his voice suddenly hoarse.

 

"Pretty," Dean said, "don't forget, a pretty one at that." Dean's smile was infectious and the hunger for Harry evident in his eyes.

 

If Harry found himself leaning a little closer, attracted by the promise of warmth and embrace after what he considered a rejection, he thought how he couldn't be faulted for that.

 

"Potter."  It was almost a whisper but Harry heard it. There was no way he would never.

 

Harry froze and quickly got on his feet to stare at the source of the voice. And there he was, Draco Malfoy, still as a statue and staring at Harry with such intensity. Clutched in Malfoy's hand was a goblet full of red wine. _For him. For Harry_. Malfoy came back for him. And god, wasn't Malfoy beautiful and everything he ever wanted? Harry felt the coiling inside his stomach and the way his hand shook. Malfoy had a way of making him feel so alive, so impossibly needing.

 

"Malfoy," Harry finally whispered reverently, forgetting he has not responded yet. "You.." he stuttered, blown by the other man's coming back.

 

"I came back as promised, Potter," Malfoy drawled, his eyes then landing on Dean Thomas with disdain, his lips curling in marked disapproval. Malfoy's forehead twitched but Harry missed what it meant. Malfoy was openly glaring at Harry's Gryffindor friend and ignored Harry for a time. Malfoy's head twitched again to his side, a motion Harry failed to recognise so oblivious was he in his marvelling at the Slytherin's presence.

 

"I can take my leave if you're that preoccupied," Malfoy finally relented.

 

Harry found himself unconsciously moving towards Malfoy when he thought the Slytherin would leave him.

 

Propelled. Gravitated. 

 

"Harry," Dean Thomas finally called.

 

Harry froze and half turned towards his friend. He couldn't afford to totally lose sight of Malfoy now of all times. Harry flushed, embarrassed that he had shown his hands to both Malfoy and Dean, embarrassed that he had forgotten about his friend the moment Malfoy walks into the scene when Harry almost agreed to come to Dean's bed just earlier. He gave a worried glance to Dean.

 

Dean looked from Harry to Malfoy, discerning,  understanding dawning on his eyes, before he stood up and faced Harry. "I understand now, love," he smiled, "I'll be here if it doesn't work out." He winked and before Harry could utter another word, proceeded to descend and land a peck on Harry's lips.

 

He watched, seized by surprise at the swift unfolding of events, as Dean passed by the Slytherin without another word. Draco Malfoy was looking sharply at Dean as the other retreated.

 

Harry wanted to die.

 

Draco Malfoy's eyes zoned in at him without preamble, pinning him to where he stood, the silver eyes so intense and dark they caught Harry's breath away.

 

"No, you're not," and then Malfoy was stalking towards him.

 

Harry belatedly realised he must've said it aloud. Nonetheless, he really believed his own death was closing in on him.

 

~*~*~*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> "It is, isn't it?" Malfoy schooled the expressions on his face. "You do know Armontentia is a controlled Potion now."
> 
>  
> 
> "Is it?" Harry feigned innocence. Of course, he knew. Part of the job.
> 
>  
> 
> Malfoy hummed. His shoulders were relaxed as he eased back and tipped his head, curious eyes on Harry. "If I didn't know any better, Potter, I'd say you made it and planned to use it on someone tonight."
> 
> .

 

/ _"It was always you a_ _ll this time_  
 _It was always you_  
 _Now I know why my heart wasn't satisfied,_  
 _It was always you_  
 _No more guessing who_  
 _Looking back now I know it was always you"./_

 

_It was always you, M5

 

~*~*~*~

 

Harry Potter confused him. And not in anyway, in the nice way.

 

Even if Draco Malfoy had the luxury of time to ponder about it any longer, he'd say he'll still point his finger at the Gryffindor's confusing and misleading behaviours as the source of all that the catastrophe the Slytherin was feeling, whatever it was.  Harry Potter was the sort of sod who clearly wasn't as brilliant as Draco, not enough to figure things out for the life of him whatever it was that he wanted. There were times when the Slytherin would wonder if Potter somehow hoped the former would do it for him. Draco sincerely hoped it wasn't the case. Draco's opinions also did not matter in fixing the Gryffindor's improper behaviours.  

 

They have all changed after the war. The Auror Training has come and passed and they were all able to prove themselves on equal grounds and even survived working together, if not barely. Potter's confusing behaviours started as soon as they were all finally registered as full fledged Aurors, as soon as they were all given individual or group missions. Whether they worked together as partners or not, Draco would catch Potter staring at him or flashing him secret glances when he thought the Slytherin was not looking. Glances at the Ministry, in public, or during the quiet in their Missions. Potter was always looking at him. That in itself was a problem, because Draco Malfoy always was looking back , paying as much attention to a certain Gryffindor, catching sneaky stares or  longing glances. Draco was an Auror, for Salazar's sake! He was trained to pay attention even when it was already ingrained in him considering his background. Indeed, Draco Malfoy was always aware of Potter's hurried looks or even the ones that linger-- _especially the ones that linger_. If Draco was curious about Potter during their times in Hogwarts, then Potter's confusing behaviour cemented the continuity of it, if not more. The Gryffindor's behaviour warranted the Slytherin's unending focus.

 

Potter was also an infuriating sod. There were moments when Draco almost believed he was wanted. _Almost._ Sometimes, most of the times, he would catch Potter's green eyes on him and Draco would find himself holding Potter's gaze back in startling possessiveness he didn't know he had. Draco wanted to know what it was that the Gryffindor Auror wanted from him, demanded of him. So Draco anticipated them- the precious moments Potter would steal, the periods Potter allowed himself to stare at Draco. There were times when he thought he was already understanding what it was that Potter wanted... until Potter broke off their connection. Potter would startle, shake his head and avert his eyes. Potter will pretend nothing happened or that he was even caught looking. And then Draco was back to zero. 

 

It happened again in tonight's Party. As soon as Potter crossed the threshold and entered the room, his emerald eyes immediately sought Malfoy. Draco heard and responded the call. It was as if Draco's eyes were Accio'd by the sodding Gryffindor. Potter joined the Christmas event making a statement, arriving on a fucking Westwood suit and looking very desirable. Draco felt the twisting of desire on his lower abdomen. Potter looked like a very delicious meat. Draco stared back at him, just as hard and just as intense, willing the other man to understand, daring him to finally stop whatever confusing game it was that he was playing... but then Potter, let his gaze slid away from Draco and didn't have the decency to find him. Harry bloody Potter avoided Draco the whole time in the Party and started getting balls drunk on his own.

 

Draco Malfoy thought he had enough. If Potter couldn't make up his stupid mind, then Draco was making the choice for him. He figured Potter was lacking his usual Gryffindor courage. Good thing Draco was a Trained Auror for the job willing to give a little bit of a hand and cure a certain saviour's condition. It was only his job.

 

Potter also had to take responsibility. If Draco found himself in a state of disaster in which he fancied himself wanting and lusting after The-Boy-Who-Died-and-Lived-Again-and-Became-a-Sexy-Bone-Malfoy-Wanted-to-devour, then it was only right to place the blame on Potter. Because for all those stares and glances and shit, was Draco's want building up and him realising how he wanted to have Potter for himself. 

 

He didn't like how the witches and wizards in the ballroom were all looking up and ogling his Gryffindor. It was time for Draco to stake his claim.

 

Potter was even more gorgeous up close. He found the Gryffindor drinking by himself, almost drunk, and Draco found himself approving of the reactions Potter was making. Potter's heartbeats were in a frenzy under his palms when he caught the other man. Blush crept upwards from the base of the Gryffindor's neck, extending to the the side of his cheeks. Draco wondered if Potter was pink and red somewhere else, too, beneath the expensive Westwood. He couldn't help feeling how right it was to finally touch Potter and have him on his hands. It didn't help that he found himself enjoying that brief company he had with the other Auror. It was fun riling Potter up, but the conversations they had so far gave him a warm feeling inside. Draco was reminded how both of them had grown up and changed after the war.

 

For a moment, Draco thought he may not need to resort to _IT_ after all, that maybe he can find ways to address whatever it was he had with Potter... but Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the cock blocker that he was had to  interrupt. Draco took it as an opportunity to evaluate his options. He actually felt _a little bit_ guilty that he came so close to using _IT_ on Potter. Perhaps Shacklebolt's interruption was fate intervening for Draco stop what it was he had originally planned.

 

Draco's having second thoughts was quickly extinguished when he saw Dean Thomas, the pest that he was, make his way into the garden where Draco knew Harry was.

 

In a way, it was Thomas' fault, really. He made the decision for both Potter and Draco.

 

~*~*~

 

Hands on his shoulders were pushing him gently, solidly, coaxing him to get back to his previous position when he was sat. Before Malfoy came.

 

_Malfoy._

 

It was him. There he was, right beside Harry. Malfoy was urging him to sit, touching him and crouching so close Harry could feel his warmth. And then Draco was lowering himself and was sitting right beside Harry, their knees touching dangerously, teasingly.

 

"Fancy a drink, Potter?" Harry watched the corners of Malfoy's lips twitch.

 

Harry stopped the moan that threatened to blossom from his own mouth. He scrunched his eyes shut before opening them again and saw that Draco Malfoy didn't disappear and was really sitting with him by the gardens.

 

"Ahh, yes," he answered. He needed the time to absorb this.

 

Harry accepted the goblet Malfoy offered. The wine tasted rich and fruity. Malfoy's eyes were latched on his throat as Harry swallowed, deep and burning grey orbs. Harry couldn't help but feel motivated to consume every drop of the wine. Drunk as he was, he needed all the liquid courage he can get. He didn't trust himself to deal with Malfoy as it was.

 

"So," Harry started as he placed the goblet on the ground, "you came back." It sounded like a question.

 

"With a drink," Malfoy emphasised, his voice amused, "as promised."

 

Harry frowned and then scowled, "And it took you an hour?"

 

He received a full blown grin at that. It was the same boyish grin the Slytherin sported during the earlier years they were in Hogwarts and Harry found how he liked it on Draco and wished he could keep the other man grinning like that. Mischievous and pure. Harry doubted there was any part of Draco that wasn't mischievous. "I was preoccupied with other things, Potter." 

 

"Like that daughter of the Wizengamot's member that you saved on one of your cases?" Harry sulked. "Took a bloody long time expressing gratitude."

 

Malfoy's grin was wide enough to show teeth. "Among other things," he shrugged.

 

Harry narrowed his eyes, "And those things would be?" Harry thought it didn't help his case being confrontational so he added, "Please, enlighten me, mister Auror, sir."

 

Malfoy surprised him by making a low laugh. His laughter was colourful, his voice rich and low and silken. Harry wanted to eat him.

 

"Are you always this bad, when you've had a drink, Potter?"

 

"I'm not dru---" And then Harry thought he couldn't continue, his tongue felt hard, rough and uncomfortable. He swallowed drily. "I'm just a little drunk. Tipsy." He amended. That felt weird.

 

Malfoy's laughter died so swiftly. He stared at Harry as if he'd just been reminded of something.  There were no traces of humour then, no evidence that just a second ago, Malfoy had been smiling and grinning and laughing with Harry. Harry didn't like the change.

 

"I wish you'd continue smiling," Harry said. Because that was the truth and he couldn't help it. And maybe he actually was a little more drunk than what he'd consider himself to be if he was sprouting love confessions as it is. "You look beautiful when you smile."

 

Malfoy's eyes widened by the admission and disbelief. Hadn't Malfoy known he was beautiful? He's very popular in the Auror Department.

 

"How are you feeling, Potter?" Malfoy asked lightly, almost gently, ignoring Harry's statement. Harry caught a faint tone of concern on Malfoy's voice.

 

"Warm. Calm. Giddy. A little dizzy and..."

 

"Dizzy?" Malfoy choked. The Slytherin pulled at his blonde hair and seemed annoyed at something, at himself, more so. He gritted his teeth. "This is a mistake," he whispered to himself, and then turned to Harry. "Potter, I think you should go home and sleep this off."

 

"Not that dizzy! I'm okay." Harry caught Malfoy's arm when the latter attempted to leave. Something dropped on the ground, and flashed  as the glass caught the moon's reflection. The vial. His Armontentia.  _Shit_. Harry had forgotten he'd been holding onto it with his other hand. Malfoy saw it but it didn't seem enough to stop him from wanting to leave. As Malfoy folded his legs closer to himself in an attempt to get himself up, Harry decided he had to pay attention on more important matters. Harry tugged a little harder on the fistful of robes he could grab on Malfoy instead of retrieving the vial on the ground to hide it. "Just sit, Malfoy. I don't know what got your knickers in a twist but I'm fine."

 

That got Malfoy's lips curving to a silly smile. More importantly, it got Malfoy to remain still and stay. Harry watched as the other man's face was painted with mild confusion and amusement. Malfoy  seemed reluctant to grin as if there was a serious matter he should be paying his attention to, but the humour won. "I don't wear knickers, Potter."

 

Harry smiled back and peered at Malfoy. "It's a Muggle saying."

 

Malfoy sat back but still looked at Harry with scrutinising eyes.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I told you I'm fine. The dizziness came and passed."

 

Malfoy just stared at him a little bit more. Harry couldn't help but feel self conscious under the gaze. He could still feel his desire for the other man. It didn't help that Malfoy was staring at him the way Harry imagined it in his dreams. This was exactly the same way as Harry wanted it, with Malfoy's intense gaze pinning him, preferably under the sheets and without clothes. Harry cursed himself for allowing the thought. He could feel the build up of want and arousal and fervently wished the Slytherin won't notice. He was feeling hot. 

 

Harry adjusted his collar and loosened it as much as was allowed. Malfoy's eyes were drawn to the exposed flesh.

 

"You seem nervous," Malfoy's voice was low.

 

"You're staring,"

 

The Slytherin bastard smirked. "And you haven't been doing the same?"

 

"I haven't---," Harry cleared his throat. It felt like there were clays in his mouth and he couldn't continue. There was something niggling at the back of Harry's mind, something he can't point a finger at but before he can think about it, he saw Malfoy reaching out for the vial which was previously dropped on the ground. That sent Harry into a wave of internal panic. Stupid, attentive, sexy bastard couldn't be trusted to mind his own business and not pick up other people's stuff. It was a good thing the vial was unlabelled. It was home cooked.

 

"Is this Armontentia?" Malfoy asked in wonder, his silver eyes widening in realisation.

 

Shit. Shit. _Shit_. Of course, Malfoy had to be an intelligent bastard. And an Auror. With top marks on Potions.

 

_"Shit_ ," Harry muttered. "Ahh, Of course, no--" The wave of dizziness was back and his mouth was dry again he couldn't talk. 

 

"It is, isn't it?" Malfoy schooled the expressions on his face. "You do know Armontentia is a controlled Potion now."

 

"Is it?" Harry feigned innocence. Of course, he knew. Part of the job.

 

Malfoy hummed. His shoulders were relaxed as he eased back and tipped his head, curious eyes on Harry. "If I didn't know any better, Potter, I'd say you made it and planned to use it on someone tonight."

 

Harry pressed his lips close, not trusting himself to answer. He already revealed too much. Albeit _unwillingly._ There wasn't enough time to think though. Malfoy was already on his Auror mode, looking predatory and regal. It was how Malfoy always worked on their Auror missions. He awaited for preys to come to him, until they were close enough for him to pounce. He wasn't like Harry who worked roughly and impulsively. Malfoy acted as if he was always sure to get his price... as he does now. A feline beast smelling the scent of its prey. 

 

Harry closed his eyes tight and wished he wasn't feeling aroused to make the situation worse.

 

"Won't you just let this go for now?" Harry wished his voice didn't sound like a whine. On some instinctual level, he knew there wasn't a way to get around Malfoy about the Potion. There wasn't a way Harry could lie his ass out of this....

 

_Lie._

 

Harry opened his eyes as realisation dawned. It felt like his mind finally caught onto the word that kept slipping the edges of his consciousness. How could he not realise? _He couldn't lie. Literally._ The signs were there. He was an Auror. As quick as he can, he bolted upright and stepped back from Malfoy, his wand now on his hand. The other Auror responded similarly. Malfoy stealthily got onto his feet although he didn't make his way to Harry.

 

"You finally figured it out," Malfoy said lightly, not surprised. He was still wearing the usual Malfoy mask which pretty much hid any form of expressions. A blank face. One that Harry viciously hated. Especially now.

 

"You sneaky shit," Harry hissed, hurt beyond words. And embarrassed. It was shameful enough that he'd been found out wanting the Slytherin but it was worse when he was desperate enough to use Armontentia to get Malfoy. Anger was starting to take control. It really wasn't something he was very good at dealing with. His arms shook a little and he had to bite his lips to keep himself from snarling. "I thought... _I thought..."_ He wanted to cry. 'I trusted you. You drugged me. Harry didn't even have the luxury for those accusations when he'd just been found out of coming close to doing the same.

 

"Potter..."

 

_"Not good. This isn't good."_

 

"Potter..."

 

_"By gods, you must be having a laugh."_

 

"Potter," 

 

"I can't believe..."

 

"P-Harry!" Malfoy called imploringly. Harry finally looked Malfoy in the eye. The Slytherin's pale brows were curved mildly, almost pleading.

 

"You drugged me." Harry finally whispered.

 

"Yes."

 

"Why?" Harry couldn't breathe. His chest hurt.

 

"For the same reason why you would've used the Armontentia on me."

 

Harry wanted to dig a fucking grave and crawl into it. He wanted to puke. "Did you want to see how desperate I am for you?" He let a frustrated, humourless laugh out. It sounded like a choke.

 

"That's how desperate  I was." Draco said firmly. "Still am, Potter," he continued a little more gently.

 

"You were desperate to see how desperate I was?" Harry bemoaned. He raised a hand and raked at his scalp, nails digging flesh and fingers pulling at his raven locks. His other hand gripped his wand so tight. He was hurt. He wanted to hurt. There was no way tonight would end nicely.

 

Malfoy groaned under his breath, his expression now a mixture of amusement and exasperation. He looked like he was having a headache which was unfair because Harry should be the one entitled to have any form of ache at this point.

 

" You really are a case, aren't you, Potter?" Malfoy said in a way that revealed he'd accepted the fact without having a choice on it.

 

Harry glared at him.

 

"I just said I wanted you and you can't figure it out for the life of you."

 

And while Harry did not immediately absorbed the words, the primal part of him at least understood. And he basked at the way Malfoy's voice caressed at him after the statement. Harry was at a lost, eyes in bewilderment and his heart on his throat.

 

"Mal...."

 

Malfoy took the few steps it needed to reach Harry. Malfoy was right in front of him, almost touching, before Harry could even blink his eyes. And then there was warmth as the Slytherin claimed his half open mouth, lips and tongue tangling with Harry's. Malfoy held the back of Harry's nape and lower back, encasing him with steady arms. Holding him like a prisoner. Which was absurd because there was no way in Hell Harry could deny this. Harry had wanted for a long time and tonight, Draco was holding him and kissing him and all the other things suddenly didn't matter anymore. Everything else was irrelevant.

 

Malfoy's kiss wasn't shy. It also wasn't forceful or careless or needy. Malfoy's kiss was controlled and demanding and steady like how every bit of the man was. Malfoy's kiss wasn't exploratory. It was something closer to affirming and claiming. With Malfoy's kiss, Harry was fully aware of the points of contact where both their bodies met. He could feel the movement of the Slytherin's chest against his own, as well as the signs of arousal down under. The kiss was amazing. The hunger built steadily and surely.

 

When they both broke the kiss, Harry wasn't sure where he and Malfoy started and ended, just that they were very much holding onto each other, for every breath's worth.

 

"You want me?" Harry asked, feeling out of this world.

 

"As I've proven by snogging and mauling the life out of you." Malfoy was nuzzling the side of his face.

 

"The Veritaserum..."

 

"Was a way of knowing if you felt the same." Malfoy concluded. "You can be very confusing, Potter, honestly. And I was desperate."

 

Harry pulled back a little, enough so he can see Malfoy's face. It caught his breath away just how much Malfoy looked beautiful. Draco's silver eyes were pools of want and lust.

 

"Desperate, were you?" Harry grinned.

 

"Told you, " Malfoy smirked. "Must I always repeat myself with you?"

 

"I like hearing it."

 

"Really, Potter, you can be very dull it makes me wonder how you became an Auror." Malfoy was wearing a feline grin. Sharp and delicious. Harry wanted to touch it and remembering that he can now, reached. Malfoys lips were soft against his fingertips. And warm and wet from their kiss.

 

"Do you want me?" Malfoy asked deliberately, after holding Harry's gaze. Whatever it was that Malfoy saw in Harry's eyes, he knew he had the permission. It wasn't a dare. Malfoy knew he could ask now and that Harry would allow it.

 

It was the question that mattered. What wasn't asked before. The one inquiry only made after Malfoy's admission--, after Harry was made aware that he was under Veritaserum.

 

Harry smiled and pulled at Draco's robe. "Desperately so," he answered against Draco's lips. He licked until Malfoy's mouth parted open and then Harry was kissing him again and the Slytherin was kissing back.

 

Draco's hand descended on the chain on Harry's waiscoat. He tugged at it and pulled Harry closer.

 

"Time to go home, Potter," he breathed on Harry's skin.

 

Harry, suddenly remembering that he still had his wand in his hand, crushed somewhere in the tangle that he and Draco were in, only agreed.

 

 

The sound of their breathing was punctuated with the silent pop of the Apparition and then there was only silence.

 

And a glass vial full of Armontentia on the ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
>  While the fic was intended to have lotsa porn, it wasn't done so. 
> 
> The men wanted the night to be about something more relevant to them. They probably had the porn bits at Harry's home, though.
> 
> .
> 
> >:D


End file.
